Toxic
by TheGoddamazon
Summary: Loki is serving his time on Midgard and hating every minute of it. To make matters worse, he crosses path with a stripper who is more than what she seems. Loki must learn that sometimes the greatest magic of all is the one created from the truth and not deceit. LoxixOFC
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** I'm new but not new to the Avengers fandom. To be honest, I only just got tuned into the Loki-Thirst after San Diego Comic Con when Tom Hiddleston cosplayed as his own character. I think some people may have seen my meltdown on Tumblr and heard my –Unf- from Pluto.

It was not strange for the gods to walk amongst mortals. It happened more often than it was given credit for, though the motivations behind such excursions were usually hard to guess at best. But they did it, and some were meddlesome.

Loki, however, did not meddle so much as he _interfered. _

It was not so much that he was helping more than he was creating mischief. Since the Avengers had brought him to justice, and he was forced to mete out his punishment bound to Midgard, limited to paltry magics that even an infant could master, he was content to dine on the pleasure of inconveniencing unsuspecting mortals. It was a surprise he had not had his magic stripped from him entirely, but the cuffs on his wrist, struck there by the magic of the Odinforce itself, trapped his potential within himself and locked it away beyond his reach. He was essentially a meager magician.

It was no small wonder why he confined himself to the limits SHIELD had assigned him with nothing less than a sullen look on his face. He did not hesitate to lift his lip in a snarl when he heard Tony Stark remark that he had the air of a chastised child about him. Loki remembered saying something along the lines of "it takes one to know one" before being escorted back to his cell.

On the days he was allowed to wander, he found very little to hold his interest. This entire realm was tainted to him, tainted with the color of an embarrassing and crippling defeat. He felt as if his endless life had spiraled out of control at some point; he had not…as the Midgardian saying went 'had his head in the game', as it were. He had essentially dropped the ball. He knew he had underestimated the sheer determination of the Avengers, the individuals he had mocked, flaunting his divinity like a red flag before the bull.

And he had gotten his ass royally kicked for such hubris.

But now, he looked around, watching the mortals scurry like so many ants, rushing—always rushing!—to gods only knew where. He wondered what these beasts were in such a hurry for. They lived in the same amount of time it took for Sleipnir to take a shit.

All of this, Loki thought disdainfully, protected by the glamour to hide his face. SHIELD and Asgard had allowed him the dignity of anonymity, at least. He was not proud of this, but without access to his magics, who knew what harm the bitterness of humanity would deal him during his internment in this realm.

That's when the collision happened.

"Hey watch your fuckin' step, fool!" A female voice chastised venomously. Loki's initial reaction was a killing spell, but he reached for magic that was forbidden to him and found only emptiness. It twisted his gut and fueled his rage. He turned to face the petulant mortal who dared to speak to him so insolently. He found himself staring down at a woman that was no less than a half a head shorter than him. He hoped she could see the fury that burned in his eyes, even as he felt the tension in his body ease only slightly.

Amber was not amused. She was late for work, she had not had anything in her mouth but toothpaste, mouthwash, and some dental floss, and she had likely smeared her make-up running into this daydreaming, scowling ass white boy who had the nerve to look at her like this whole mess was her fault. Her purse had dropped between them, spilling some of its contents onto the concrete at their feet.

"You dare?" White Boy asked in a dangerous tone that made Amber think that he really did not know who the fuck he was talking to right then. She set her jaw and clenched her fist.

"Motherfucker not only do I _dare_, I'm telling you to get the **fuck** out my way." No one stopped to watch. This was New York. Nobody had time to give that much of a fuck about some arguing on the street…unless hands would be thrown. Then maybe a few tourists might get a kick out of that.

Amber kneeled to pick up her purse and its escaped contents: a compact, some lipstick that looked like it was too scandalous to be worn at this hour of the day, and a photograph that included her and a taller woman dressed in what amounted to body glitter and glorious hair.

Loki glared at her, slightly off-put by her sudden kneel, only to find she was retrieving her belongings. He frowned harder and squared his stance a little as she rose to walk past him, only to find him an obstacle still in her path.

"Yo what the fuck are you doing?" She demanded after the second attempt to walk past him resulted in his standing in her way again.

"Awaiting an apology. I believe I am owed that much for your insolence." Loki responded.

Amber almost lost her shit. Actually, she lost her shit…just a little.

"Look!" She shouted. "If you do not _move_. If you do not _leave me be_. I am going to **body** your ass all over this pavement, you feel me?" Loki's eyes narrowed. Who was this mortal with no power to speak of to speak to him thusly? Midgard had grown bold since the gods had withdrawn their forward presence. It made his disdain for the place that much stronger. He wasn't sure what she meant by "body his ass" until she said "all over this pavement". He presumed it to be a threat of bodily harm.

Loki laughed. It was cruel, bitter, and derisive.

And that's when Amber's right hand cracked across his face.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** Alright, the first chapter came out better than expected. Let's try another one, eh?

Loki was angry.

No, he was outraged.

Never in his life had he allowed a mortal to actually strike him. He did not count the Avengers, as they transcended the scope of the average mortal. No, never had a mortal so low on the scale of this woman ever lay a hand upon him. Loki was sitting in his cell, a vast upgrade from the one he had previously been confined to—courtesy of his bumbling brother, Thor—and examining the damage in the mirror. He looked like himself, save the fading redness of the woman's strike on his left cheek.

One. Only one, and he could continue to serve his sentence in relative peace. He would have to find her and kill her. Even Thor would have to see that he could not stand for such disrespect.

Loki left the bathroom to the adjoining room in his prison. He glared disdainfully at the upper corner of the wall where a single, black camera was mounted, blinking its red eye at him as if to mock his predicament.

Pink Dream was a strip club, like any other in the city, only it was not situated in a seedy part of town. Amber was rushing through the back door when she bumped into her manager in the hallway.

"Late again, Amber?" He demanded, only it came out like a statement of fact instead of a question. Amber was not scared of anyone—at least, she tried not to be—but this was the man who was cutting her check to ensure she could put food on the table every week. She was enticing to look at, with her warm skin, a dark brown that shone richly without the application of oil she used for her shows. Her hair was thick and curly; tiny black ringlets that sprouted from her head in charming profusion, framing a round, open face. Her eyes were dark and big like luminous black pearls, framed with thick black lashes. Her mouth—a full, lush something she was proud of, shaped around an excuse for her tardiness before her manager cut her off.

"Don't wanna hear it," He said, holding up a hand to silence her, "Get dressed, you'll take Sparkle's set. She called in sick." Amber blinked as he turned to leave, and made her way to the dressing room. Four other women were there, and the smell of mingling perfumes, lotions, creams, and hair products hung thick in the muggy air.

"We still ain't got that air conditioning fixed, man?" Amber groaned irritably as she opened her locker, decorated profusely with polaroid snapshots of her and friends, and her name written in glittering letters to mark the locker as her own. One of the other women, a little older than her, and called her self Poodle, sighed.

"You know, if I were you, I'd get dressed and stop bitchin'," She was chewing gum, and popped it obnoxiously as she fluffed her hair in a mirror. Poodle was one of the women with tenure at Pink Dream and still had the skills and body to rival any up and coming girl looking to be a pole dancing star. She was tall and willowy, muscular from the strength required to work the chrome pole on stage, with long blonde hair fading into a pleasant, deeper gold at the ends. She was the quintessential Hot White Dancer. Her eyes were big and blue, and when she wore her full stage make-up, had all the sexual allure men dreamed about even if she wasn't their type. Poodle was everyone's type.

"I'm just sayin'," Amber continued as she rifled through her collection of costumes, "If Steve fixed the air conditioning, maybe we would have more people. He can't expect us to stay good-looking in this heat." She pulled her shirt over her head, tossing it in her dance bag before reaching behind to unhook her bra. As she selected her pieces, a black leather-and-spikes number that gave her the appearance of a succubus, she yelped when a hand slapped firmly on her ass.

"But I like you sweaty," A husky voice whispered in her ear. Amber smiled, breathing deep the scent of expensive perfume and turned to face her.

Her. Roxanne Michaels.

There was a world of weight as the taller woman leaned in and pressed a tender kiss to Amber's lush mouth. Amber smiled into it, heedless of her still remaining topless—it was not much different from the costume she was about to put on.

"Roxy," Amber murmured, "You know I'm on the clock…"

Loki hadn't meant to end up here, but the information he'd gathered based on the facial recognition software at SHIELD's satellite facility where he was held, had led him here. If SHIELD could put together dossiers on gods, then finding one, puny girl was of little consequence.

So when he wandered into the Pink Dream—a strange name, indeed—he had no idea what to expect.

But he certainly did not expect to be walking into a carnal entertainment house.

The main room was littered with patrons, mostly male, and the lights were virtually off, save for the stage in the front of the room.

That…that is where he found her. She was dancing, swaying and undulating like a snake. It was not the hypnotic dance Loki was riveted on more so than it was the fact that she was not wearing a single shred of clothing. She stood with her back to the audience, legs spread, holding the chrome pole that bisected her body perfectly. It was deliberate and slow and sensual and played up the perfection that was her body. She had curls of pure jet that fell down to mid-back. Suddenly, in a graceful turn, she had mounted the pole and Loki watched as muscles, honed and toned for this art—he had begun to think that mortals were capable of some semblance of it—her legs wrapped around the pole. Loki watched her face, soft and round with the allure of ardent sexuality. Sexuality she was selling.

She did a series of maneuvers that could be labeled as nothing less than acrobatic and Loki felt the stirrings of something in him that he knew was lust. She bent over, playing up the shape of her wide hips and small waist from a different angle; and then she looked up in a shower of black curls…and met his eyes.

The recognition was almost immediate. There was a new fire in her eyes, one of shock, outrage, and…to Loki's supreme pleasure…_fear_. He felt the smile spread across his face and watched as the woman finished her dance, ending in a sinking movement that bared…all of her glory to him. It was almost better than the vengeance of killing her.

That was, until she left the stage, collecting the money that had been thrown and returning to the back room. Loki grinned. It was time to go to work.


	3. Chapter 3

Amber had never felt so mortified. It was not so much that she had locked eyes with the man she'd threatened not a day earlier, but the fact that he had seem to have taken pleasure in her surprise. It was the crux of many problems in her profession. She had to be careful which people she pissed off…or they'd wind up here, staring her down.

But why had he followed her? Or was it merely coincidence?

Amber decided she was not going to stick around to find out. She was hasty in the dressing room, getting dressed and searching for her phone.

"Hey, where are you going?" Marlene, the Den Mother, demanded, ignoring Amber's obvious distress and agitation. Amber was hopping around, struggling to fit the jeans over her rear before she fell over. Marlene took notice, then.

"Amber, sweetie? What is it? Is something the matter?" She stood up from her desk to help Amber to her feet. Amber didn't bother with a bra and instead squeezed into the t-shirt instead.

"No." She said, not specifying what she was answering to. Instead, she shoved her dance bag into her locker, grabbed her purse, and stormed out.

She was met with her mysterious stranger in the back as soon as she emerged into the muggy night air.

"You still owe me an apology," He said, but there was something humorous in his tone and Amber was not feeling humorous at all. She moved to strike but he caught her hand again.

"Oh no, not this time, lovely," He said, "You're going to apologize, first." Amber tried to snatch her hand away, but found his grip to be like iron.

"For what?!" She shouted at him. "For wanting some fucking space? For wanting your bitch ass to move? You better let go of me or I'm going to do some shit that might put you in the emergency room." The man quirked a brow, he waved her captured hand around.

"Oh? And what's that?"

Amber's knee came up and the look on her captor's face was one of pure, unadulterated agony.

Worked every time.

As he sank to his knees before her, she looked down at him.

"If I ever see your fucking face in my club again I'm going to do it in heels next time, you feel me?" But she hadn't expected him to recover so quickly.

He was on his feet and he was angry. Loki was very angry, but his glamour did not waver. He still wore a pretty face that was not his own.

Amber backed away a few steps, mindful of her surroundings.

"You would presume to threaten and accost me, mortal?" Amber's brows furrowed. Okay…he was talking crazy.

"Are you on drugs?" She demanded. "You. Stalked. Me. All because of a little slap. I mean, I know you bitch-made, but c'mon, man. I ain't even hit you that hard." She felt her confidence returning. This man was just an overgrown baby. Good. She could handle his type. But he was still unusually strong despite his build. That was fine. He was strong. His balls sure weren't.

Loki wanted to throttle her, but at the same time, he had never felt so…alive. This woman who had no problem threatening him and following through was exhilarating. She would fit in well with other women of Asgard. She was fierce, beautiful, and perhaps it was partially because he was not wearing his own face.

"You are confident, mortal," He said, her smile turning sinister, "But only because you think yourself at an advantage for now." He felt the glamour fading at his beckoning. He saw the look on her face, saw the undertones of her rich, dark skin drain to make her look ashen. Her eyes were wide as she stood in the presence of Loki, God of Lies, Tricks, and former tyrant of the Earth. Her hand rose shaking to cover her trembling mouth. Loki took enormous pleasure in this.

She began to cry. And he liked that too. But these were not tears of fear. The fire of her anger burned brighter in her dark, lovely eyes. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

"You." Her voice shook, but it was from anger, and as Loki tried to sense more—he could no longer read minds, only sense emotions—he felt and unimaginable grief. It was the grief of loss, and it hollowed her out, warring with her anger. She stalked toward him, her fist raised. Loki's smile faded as she swung. She was strong—and she needed to be to do what she did in her profession—but he was still a god.

He heard the crack of her bones as her fist was met with the unyielding force of his Asgardian skin.

She drew back in pain, and he could see that she was more frustrated than in pain.

"You!" She screamed and came at him again. Loki caught her warring fists in both hands, and she squirmed and sobbed at him.

"If you don't calm down, mortal, I will calm you. Permanently." Loki said irritably. Human grief was so cumbersome. Amber stepped on his foot, but to no avail. She kicked and then the words came.

"You murdered my brother, you fuck!" She screamed at him, "You murdered him in cold blood and you think you can just come back and—why?! What did my family ever do to you?" She tore away from him, cradling her wounded hand, already bruised and swollen from ill-fated attempt. Loki began to understand.

_Of all the women I had to worry…_He thought grimly. Still, her grief was understood, now. But Loki found himself unable to empathize.

"I have never met your brother, mortal, and if I had, I assure you he was of little consequence." He smoothed out his leathers and silk, glaring briefly at the cuffs that bound his true power. At least he could not be maimed and killed by humanity. This woman would have done more otherwise.

"Of little consequence?" She demanded in a hushed whisper, wiping her eyes. "He worked for SHIELD you fucking cunt, and you murdered him when you got here." Amber clenched her fist. "You didn't even think about it, did you? What was a human life to you?"

Loki felt as if it were time to go. He had bitten off more than he could chew…which seemed to become the increasingly common trend of his long life. Amber laughed, empty and hollow.

"I get it, now. You don't care. Of course not. You're stuck here serving prison time, trapped with us mortals." She knew a lot more than she was supposed to. "Everyone on Earth knows, but we had no idea you were allowed to walk around with us."

She turned her back to him. Loki was silent for a time.

"I did not ask for this," He said in an effort to justify the horrors he had put humanity through a year prior. She had been in mourning, and his attempt at a cruel joke had become decidedly un-funny. Amber collected herself.

"Yeah, you little bitch," She turned to him. "You ain't ask for shit. You just decided to show up and spite your brother by enslaving an entire planet. You wanted to kill all of us and you enjoyed it." She shivered. "Yeah, we all know that story too. I can spot a mothrfucker with daddy issues a mile away."

Loki bristled.

"Watch yourself. I have stayed my hand this time out of respect for my sentence being served, but one mortal life will not be noticed if you continue to bait me." Amber rolled her eyes.

"You really are bitch-made. You can hide behind that false face all you want, but you were bitch-made from the jump," She continued, heedless of the fire flashing in Loki's green eyes as his hands clenched and unclenched. "You got your world fucked up by those folks working for SHIELD. You got your world fucked up back home, I bet, too. Bet you your fine ass brother would fuck your world up if he found out you weren't even trying to make a change too."

She pushed past him, turning the corner and leaving Loki to fume. He could have killed her if he wanted to, but knowing what he knew now, her being alive would give him something to focus on. He had already hurt her, and the wound was still bleeding through the proverbial scab created in the long year since his invasion.

He would not follow her, but instead, returned to the SHIELD facility.

Amber had never been so relieved to get back to her apartment. She shut the door behind her, kicked off her shoes, and locked the door. Then, she sank to the floor and sobbed.

It was hours later before she picked herself up off the floor to go to her room. She took a long, hot shower, finding herself in tears again in the middle of it, and she mentally chastised herself for opening the wound of her loss again.

"Stop being a bitch," She said to her reflection. For a brief instant, her reflection wavered and she saw Loki's face instead. She jumped back, shutting her eyes. She could still hear the screams of the city. It was, in fact, the second time she had heard such bedlam in her city. The first time, however, the threat had been entirely human.

Amber didn't bother with clothes, and instead slid into bed and slept. She had just been getting into the deepest part of sleep when she heard the door to her apartment open.

She sat up only to find nothing but shadows and the shifting lights from outside playing along her plain, white walls.


	4. Chapter 4

For days, Loki never left his cell. His encounter with Amber had not gone as expected. He had expected to strike fear into her, that she may remember her place in relation to him. He had not expected…he had not expected to be able to still taste her grief on his tongue.

He tried to remember. He had killed more than a few scores of mortals from the moment he was first deployed to Midgard for the Tessaract. So many had died at his hands, and he thought precious little of the faces and names of the mortals whose lives he snatched away without forethought.

Amber's outburst, so incredibly violent and visceral that it gave him pause, had changed that. He tried to remember and found that he could not. Everything had been a blur. He had been in a low place when the Others had found him—when Thanos had found him. He had fallen for forever, until he was empty of everything but the cold hatred for his brother and for his brother's beloved Midgard. He had wanted to destroy it, but leave just enough to enslave that he might torment Thor for eternity with the knowledge that he could not save his pet mortals.

Even now, he tried to remember. She had not specified when her brother her died exactly, or where. That was when the door to his cell opened. Standing in the ingress was Director Nick Fury, his hands clasped behind his back, his face locked in a perpetual mask of stern authority. He bore no love for Loki, nor Loki for him, so Loki welcomed him with a cold smile.

"You wanna explain your little excursion to the strip club the other day?" It wasn't a question. Loki leaned back in his chair with a lazy Cheshire grin.

"Does a man have to explain a need for entertainment? Or are you referring to the girl?" Fury's expression never changed. Loki chuckled.

"I had no intentions of harming her. Although, I'm beginning to think you pushed her to me deliberately." Fury's expression changed slightly. It was as close to surprised as Loki would ever see him.

"She is under SHIELD's protection, Loki, so don't think you can lie your way out of this. Now, explain yourself or I will call your brother down here to shake it out of you." Loki scowled.

"It has come to this, then?" He demanded acidly. "It has come to you calling upon that brainless oaf to subdue me? Can you mortals do nothing for yourselves? I am serving my sentence as peaceably as I am able—it does not mean I will tolerate disrespect in the bargain."

"This isn't a bargain, Loki," Fury said with a more authoritative bite to his tone, "This is your sentence. We've allowed you the freedom to wander, provided you stay out of trouble, but stalking a human with the intention of murder will have us not only revoking those privileges, but locking you in a box so deep and dark that you'll probably even apologize." Loki rose from his seat, reaching for his locked powers unthinking, and finding nothing, which once more fueled his frustration.

"You know nothing of _true _darkness, mortal," He hissed, "And I assure you, anywhere you put me would be a mercy to mingling with the filth and stink of your brutish kindred." Fury canted his head slightly. He hadn't even reached for his gun; that was how far Loki had fallen, that he no longer put Fury on edge.

"I may not know nothing of true darkness," Fury agreed, "But I know there are people in this organization who are very imaginative as to what it might be like, and others who are just crazy enough to recreate it. So don't test me, Loki. Stay away from her."

"Why is she so important to you, Director?" Loki asked, that sly smile animating his features, making him look more inhuman than anything. Fury did not answer and instead turned his back to leave.

"What does she know? What has she done to make you expend resources protecting her?" He received no answer, as he expected, and watched as Fury left, closing the heavy cell door behind him. Loki stood there, caught between amusement, curiosity, and frustration.

Amber was hot by the time she finished her last set. She hadn't spoke of her encounter with Loki to anyone, and it was for the best. Roxanne had come over to stay for two days, and that had helped to distract her, but the enigma was there. She thought about all the things she could have done differently to avoid this, but she had not seen Loki since then, and she assumed that SHIELD had done something. Her brother Jared had always been telling her SHIELD could snatch anyone from anywhere if they wanted to, and no one would ask questions. They had laughed as if it were a joke, but after the invasion of last year…Amber knew it for truth. But she couldn't tell anyone.

When she got home, she showered, washing her curly hair until she felt clean all over. She heard the murmur of the television in the other room, and assumed it was Roxanne. When she came out wearing a robe with her hair wrapped in a towel, she was stunned to find a curvy, sinuous redhead sitting at her dining room table.

Natasha Romanoff eyed Amber impassively, and then allowed herself a slight smile.

"Amber Ellis, I presume." She said, her voice like liquid silk. There was no trace of a Russian accent. Amber was frozen.

"You're from…" Natasha inclined her head slightly, amused that Amber could already tell.

"I'm here to inform you that you're being relocated." Amber lifted her hand.

"I can't," She said, "Nothing happened. I haven't breathed a word about it to anyone, I swear. I didn't know it was him when I slapped him, but he just upset me so much…" Natasha held up her hand.

"We're well aware of the situation, Ms. Ellis," She said smoothly, "And I assure you, you are not in any kind of trouble. But seeing as how Loki was able to track you back to your job, my superiors are taking precautions as was demanded in your late brother's will and testament." Amber visibly flinched at the mention of her brother.

"I want to see him." She said firmly. Natasha's brows rose.

"Say again?" She asked, but she had heard her the first time.

"I gotta talk to him face to face. I need closure." Amber said.

"Ms. Ellis that's not within my power to grant. I'm well aware that you are grieving your brother, and on behalf of SHIELD I am deeply sorry for your loss, however, it would not be conducive to your safety to allow you near Loki at this time."

"Why?!" Amber demanded, suddenly angry. "You let him wander all over this fuckin' city without a goddamn leash, letting him rub elbows with everyone unknowingly, and the one time somebody decides they not gonna let him just skate by, you talkin' about SAFETY? You wanna know what would be safe? Send that motherfucker back where he came from! Or better yet," Amber paced, angrier than ever, "Send him to fuckin' hell where he belongs for what he did." Natasha's expression hadn't changed, although there was a shift of the atmosphere that said she was no entirely unaffected by the woman's outburst.

"Very well, then," Natasha said, "I'll see what I can do, but you are still being relocated."

"Can I still work at the club?" Natasha pursed her lips.

"That's not up to me. If it means that much to you, I'll put it in the pass down." She rose to leave. Amber watched her go.

"Thank you." She whispered.


	5. Chapter 5

Loki had come to expect nothing less but the unexpected from SHIELD. However, since his chat with Director Fury the other day, nothing had happened. He was allowed to wander, but his circle of restriction was smaller, limiting him to areas within emergency distance of the facility.

It was all dreadfully dull.

That was, until one morning, when the lovely Black Widow came to his cell.

"Here to chastise me as well, Ms. Romanoff?" He asked snidely, watching the television, but not mindful of what was on it. He didn't glance up at her.

"No, actually," she said almost brightly, "You have a visitor." Loki couldn't roll his eyes any harder.

"Tell my brother that I'd rather not hear more about how my imprisonment and betrayal has hurt him. I think I've heard enough of those to last a lifetime." He said tiredly.

"Well sorry to disappoint you, but your brother isn't here. However, this is someone we think you can learn from." Natasha stepped aside to allow the other woman entry.

Loki hazarded a slow glance to the Russian agent before his eyes widened. Amber Ellis stood next to the agent, wearing a form fitting white dress, and heels. Her curls caught the light in the most charming way, and she looked just…she was just beautiful for a Midgardian woman. Loki tried to wear an expression that was anything but pleasantly surprised.

Amber's expression was one of cold, banked fury. Loki found that he sipped from her fury and found it fiery to the senses.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of being confronted by my assailant?" At that, Amber looked as if she was about to accost him again but Natasha placed a hand on her arm.

"You owe her closure," Natasha said simply, and the silence gained pounds of solemn weight in the aftermath as the woman turned to leave.

With the exception of the camera and whatever else surveillance devices planted within the room, Amber and Loki were alone.

"You want me to what? Beg your forgiveness?" Loki sneered. Amber stood motionless, clutching the handle of her purse in a white-knuckled grip.

"No." Amber said. "We way beyond that bullshit." She said quietly. "Ain't no style or amount of begging you can give me that will make me forgive you."

"Good, because I hadn't plan to do any of that." Loki stood, leisurely, light on his feet, coming to stand before her. She remained unmoved.

"You don't even feel remotely bad for your bullshit, huh?" Amber demanded.

Loki leaned forward, grinning.

"Why should I?"

Amber's brows furrowed as she leaned forward.

"Because I've been authorized to hurt you if you come near me. It ain't like you stole my car or money. You took someone I loved from this world well before his time. And I'm not the only one. It's not on me to pardon your bitch ass," She put some distance between them, dropping her purse on the small end table by the couch.

"It's not up to me to decide if you deserve anything but a knife in your back," She was so angry. He could feel the heat of her anger rolling off of her in waves, and still he took the time to admire her. She was shapely from behind, and she turned slightly and he saw a glimpse of her soft profile through her profuse curls. She turned to face him, her dark face hard and unyielding.

"But what I can do is get closure for myself." She reached into her bag. Loki watched, noticing the delicacy in which she handled the contents. She withdrew a single photo and handed it to him.

It was a photo of her and another young mortal man. He noted the similarities in their features, the smiles that lit their dark faces. There was so much joy in this photo, a joy he and his own brother could never feel.

"This is the mortal whose life I took." Loki stated. Amber clenched her fists.

"His name was Jared Ellis. He was a proud agent of SHIELD, and he died trying to keep you from fucking up our planet. He wasn't no type of superhero or nothin'…but he believed in what he was fighting for. He had so much potential and you took it from him."

Loki stared at the picture, seeing Amber's arms wrapped around him. He looked up and saw that she had sat down on the couch. She was doing that gesture again, bringing her hand to cover her mouth. He wondered briefly why she did that. He held the picture for a moment longer, noting she was fighting tears.

"You still mourn for him." Loki said quietly, trying to understand why he could not remember Jared. He had been a different person then, still mad with rage and hellbent on vengeance. Here, forced to be alone with his own thoughts, without the outside influence of Thanos and his minions, he needed to think and plan.

He sat next to her.

"He was everything to me." Amber said. "You wouldn't know. You hate your brother." Loki bristled.

"He is not my brother."

"Bullshit. That motherfucker would move mountains for you but your head so far up your own ass you can't even see shit." Loki drew back, nonplussed.

"I don't want him to move mountains for him. And do not bring up that brute ever again." Amber stood up.

"Don't make demands of me just because you can't get along with your family. Last I checked, your brother was the hero and you were the villain. But you ain't gotta be." That gave Loki pause. Amber stared at him, her anger still there, but it was muted with something else.

"Is this what your aim is?" Loki demanded. "Attempting to appeal to what humanity you think lies within me? Mortal need I remind you that I am not of this realm? There is nothing human within me, and anyone who believes otherwise is either a fool or dead. Which would you rather be?"

Amber laughed in his face.

"You dumb as fuck." She said simply. "That's what it is. You are dumb as fuck if you think for a second you can threaten me." He noticed for the first time her hand was healing. The bruises had faded…how had she worked with that injury? Or had SHIELD worked their 'magic' with some drug to heal her and wipe away any trace of their confrontation?

"You ain't gotta be the villain. Like…I did some reading on you," Amber said and Loki's nostrils flared, frowning. "You so damn bitter about…whatever the fuck it is you think people think of you. Man, you really ain't shit, to be honest."

"Are you mad, woman?" Loki demanded, angry now. "You presume much to think you can court what you believe is knowledge about me from your mortal tomes of fairy tales and wondrous stories steeped in one-sided accounts." Amber's lip curled.

"Shut the fuck up." She said. Loki was quiet, more from shock than from acquiescence.

"SHIELD let me read up on you. Director Fury said I deserved to know what and who I was dealing with." Loki grinned, knowing SHIELD kept a dossier of his most heinous deeds.

"And…?"

"You still ain't shit. You a liar, cheater, and above all a murderer, but you ain't shit unless you have back up. In the end, all your lying, cheating, and murdering has brought you nothin' but more pain to add to your list of…" She trailed off as the cell door opened. Natasha Romanoff stood there, looking as unreadable and authoritative as ever.

"Ms. Ellis, I'm here to brief you on your new accommodations." She said. Amber nodded and looked at Loki. She grabbed her bag and left with the agent. Loki watched her go, still holding the photograph in his hand.


	6. Chapter 6

Amber never told Roxanne about her connection to SHIELD. Roxanne knew about her brother, knew he had been lost in the chaos and disaster of the invasion, but not why or how. Amber liked it that way. People tended to grow less curious when personal tragedy was one of the blockades.

She continued to work at Pink Dream as if nothing had happened, but everything had changed, including her location. SHIELD had cleared her apartment and moved her into the towers they owned. It was usually reserved for employees and the Avengers themselves. She was sure there were others in her predicament. Not exactly, but she was sure there were others SHIELD had taken an interest in and housed here.

Here was a lush and sleek apartment, equipped with everything she might need or want. Director Fury had been skeptical as to why she wanted to continue working as a dancer, but she explained that it would be better for both herself and SHIELD if she continued life as normal while she was under their watch. Fury had frowned about it, but she argued him down.

Now, she could afford better costumes, shoes, and have herself look the way she wanted. In addition, she would receive an education at SHIELD's expense. Her brother had covered her entirely in his will and she wondered when he had written it.

Of course, there was that other problem: Loki Laufeyson.

She hadn't gone to talk to him since the day she arrived, but she was surprised when her apartment was buzzed and it wasn't Roxanne, but the God of Mischief himself. She hesitated for a moment, until he flashed the photograph in front of the camera. She let him come up almost immediately.

Loki stood in the living room, feeling out of place. Amber offered him a drink. He declined. He instead looked around, turning in a slow circle.

"This place does not suit you." He said when she returned from the kitchen with a glass of orange juice. Amber made a face as if she couldn't believe he had the nerve.

"How you mean?" She asked him, deciding she'd play nice for now. Loki gestured to her, and then their surroundings.

"You are too…soft and pliant for such harsh décor." He said disdainfully. Amber blinked, burying her shock in a big gulp of her orange juice.

"The fuck you mean 'soft and pliant'? I actually like this place." Loki grinned.

"You're lying." Loki countered.

"And you a bitch ass motherfucker." Amber said. Loki gritted his teeth. Amber lifted her glass. Loki pointed and her orange juice changed black. Amber dropped the glass in shock. It was too thick to shatter but the black liquid came out orange.

"That's it? What happened to all that power you was packin' before?" Loki frowned.

"It is a stipulation of my stay here. It is the only reason I am allowed to roam unattended." Loki held up his hands, indicating the cuffs etched with runes. "My power is bound." Amber went to retrieve a rag to wipe up the spilled juice.

"So you couldn't even kill me?" Amber laughed harshly. "Man they did you dirty as fuck, but it ain't no less than you deserve." Loki watched her go back to the kitchen, admiring her shamelessly.

"Why do you work there?" Loki asked, ignoring her insults. Amber paused, not watching him, but seeing him come toward him out of the peripheral vision. Loki examined her, awaiting an answer. She found that she did not like the way her skin prickled under his gaze. It was…too pleasant.

"You mean why do I take my clothes off for money." She stated. Loki's jaw tensed. Amber chose that moment to turn to face him.

"Let me tell you something about Earth," She said, drying her hands. "Let me tell you about the modern age. What I do with my body is my choice, how I earn the money I need to eat, is my business." Loki opened his mouth but she held up her hand.

"And given that I still wanna see your ass splattered all over the pavement for what you took from me, you ain't really in no position to be telling me shit."

"I am a god." Loki snapped.

"Who ain't got no type of ammo to use except some cheap ass illusions and empty threats. Bruh. My fists are real and ain't bound by magic. You wanna test me right now?"

The tension crackled between them as their eyes met in silent challenge. Loki grinned, and let out a laugh that sounded as dark and lilting as it was dangerous. Amber found that her stomach did something strange when he did.

"You fractured your hand during our last encounter, memory serve," Loki said pleasantly, and he leaned forward until his face was one slow exhale away from hers. "Are you prepared to test your meddle against a god?"

"Not a god right now," Amber whispered, and she wasn't sure why or when, but their lips touched and then they were melding. His mouth tasted like the first breath of winter, crisp and clean, and she drank it down.

Loki could not describe Amber in any way except how soft she was. For a woman with a mouth that spit poison and acid as if they were her bread and butter, everything about her was soft. And he did not realize how he had longed to taste this mouth, until he pulled away. Her lips were parted and her great dark eyes blinked as she realized what she had done.

"You should go." She murmured, but Loki could see the spell still gripped her, glossing her eyes. She had tasted divinity, as diminished as it was, and she was changed. Loki's face was unreadable.

"And what then will you do?" He asked her.

"What do you want from me?" She asked irritably. Loki said nothing. Amber looked away.

"Get out." She said to him. "Just leave before we both do something that'll make us hate ourselves later." Loki watched the curves of her body, noticed the slight tremble in her hands as she put the dishes away. He came around the corner. She turned.

"You are too spirited to be a mere mortal woman," Loki said softly, "But your features are too soft to be of divine make. So what are you? Who are you? Why are you so important to SHIELD?"

The spell was broken as Amber whirled around.

"Is that what you came here for?! To find out why SHIELD took me in?" She looked angry, but Loki sensed something else.

She was hurt.

"Yes and no," Loki answered cryptically. Amber made a face of angry confusion.

"You really need to leave," She said dangerously, "Because every time you open your goddamn mouth I want to slap it off your face."

Loki began to laugh. Amber looked like she was about to make good on her threat.

"You're the most amusing mortal I've met in a long while, Ms. Ellis." Amber blinked, her mouth contorted into a frown.

"Yeah? Well you can go amuse yourself in your own goddamn house. Fuck outta here." Loki put up his hands, making his way toward the door.

"Very well, Ms. Ellis. What time should I come to see you again? Or would you rather me visit you at work?"

Loki barely made it out of the door in time to miss the plate that shattered where he had been standing.


End file.
